


Not Kitten Around

by Cobrilee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Based on a Tumblr Post, Detective Keith (Voltron), First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Single Parent Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: While Keith is grateful for the friends he's made in his new apartment complex, a kid and a cat were not what he hoped. An adult relationship would be nice, too.He gets one, courtesy of the kid and the cat.





	Not Kitten Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikkimouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/gifts).



> This fic is for the wonderful and amazing [mad-madam-m](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/), on the occasion of her birthday. Thank you for being you and being my friend. 
> 
> Thank you to [rhysiana](https://rhysiana.tumblr.com/) for the beta work! Based on [this Tumblr post](http://tumblr.tastefullyoffensive.com/post/141322288653/cat-burglar-via-benji).

It takes Keith far too long to connect the dots. He's ashamed of himself, really. He's supposed to be a detective, and yet he can't figure out what's going on under his own nose.

He hasn't lived in the new apartment long when he makes friends with a cat that keeps showing up on his balcony. She's almost pure white, a near impossibility in the city, with smoke-gray smudges on her nose and the tips of her ears. One front paw looks like she dipped it in soot and never bothered to wash it off. The rest of her is like a fresh snowfall, before tires and thousands of feet stomp it into dirty mush.

She plops onto his balcony one Saturday morning and meows at his window until he opens it, then strolls in and curls up on his favorite couch pillow like she belongs there. He's more amused than irritated, so he sits down beside her and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. She doesn't move away, just looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Keith reaches out and scritches under her chin, and the soft purr escalates into something that more closely resembles an outboard motor. It makes him smile, and a friendship is born. 

She shows up every couple days, and he opens the window as soon as he hears the soft thud of her feet hitting the balcony. She seems to have an uncanny awareness of his schedule, and she's made herself at home. He finds himself making sure that he has a food and water dish ready, and he even buys a few toys and treats. She has a collar and is clearly well-nourished, so he assumes she's a neighborhood cat with a sense of wanderlust. 

Snow White has been showing up for a few weeks when he meets the kid down in the gym. At first he ignores the grunting and puffing as the kid tries to lift weights he has no business lifting, but eventually he gets concerned enough to interrupt his own routine and wander over. “Do your parents know you’re here?” he asks first, a little awkwardly. All the social rules scream at him that he shouldn’t be talking to this kid alone, but the officer in him scolds that the kid’s welfare is his first priority.

“My dad said I could,” he answers defensively, and Keith lifts his hands in surrender.

“No problem here. Just wanted to make sure someone knows where you are.”

“My dad’s upstairs, in our apartment,” the kid mutters, huffing as he struggles to hoist the bar. Keith shifts behind the bench, shoulders tensing in preparation to grab it in the event it slips out of his grip. “He’s working on some big thing he needs quiet for, so he said I could come down here if I behaved.”

“You’re doing a good job,” Keith tells him, because other than the alarming misuse of the equipment, he really is. “But it’s not safe for you to lift by yourself, especially when you’re trying to lift too much.”

The kid lowers the bar, but it’s shaky and tips back and forth until it drops the last couple inches into the rack with a loud clang. “It’s not like there’s anyone else to help.”

“There’s me,” Keith offers, wincing inwardly.  _ What the hell are you doing? _

The kid eyes him skeptically. “That makes you kind of a creeper. You shouldn’t be talking to me anyway. You’re probably like three times my age.”

Keith snorts, pulling out his badge. “I’m a cop. You’re safe.”

“You being a cop doesn’t mean I’m safe,” the kid shoots back, smirking, and Keith simultaneously wants to boot his ass out of the gym and give him a grudging nod of respect. He settles on a flinty stare. “But you seem cool. As long as you don’t try to give me candy.”

That shocks an actual laugh out of him. “I can’t remember the last time I had candy to give away. Maybe a protein bar, if you’re lucky.”

The kid grins up at him, his obsidian eyes glinting with mirth. “You’re okay. What’s your name?”

Keith drops onto the machine next to the kid’s bench press. “I’m Keith. You?”

“Hiroto, but you can call me Hiro.” The kid--Hiro--sticks out a sweaty hand and Keith stares at it, raising one eyebrow. Hiro snickers and wipes it on his shorts, sticks it back out, and Keith finally shakes it. 

“Nice to meet you, Hiro.”

He settles back into position under the bar. “I guess I can say the same. So, you gonna spot me or what?”

Thus begins Keith’s second friendship in less than a month.  _ A kid and a cat _ , he muses wryly.  _ Because having a successful  _ adult _ relationship is apparently too much to ask. _

\-----

His days become a series of letting the cat in, cuddling her a little, making sure she’s fed, and then heading down to the gym to train with Hiro. He worries sometimes about how much Hiro is left alone, but he assures Keith that he and his dad are really close. “He just has this big project at work that’s really stressing him out, so I get out of his hair for a couple hours every day.”

They don’t talk about much of anything, really, but Keith spots him and gives him tips on how to lift for maximum efficiency. Occasionally Hiro brings his homework down and Keith helps him a little, but he’s smart, and doesn’t need much help. He’s bright and funny and Keith grudgingly admits he genuinely likes him, which is a surprise, because generally he’s not a fan of children.

Things are going well enough in his life that it takes him awhile to realize that things around his apartment are going missing. First it’s his socks, which he hardly notices because everyone loses socks. It’s like an unwritten rule that socks go missing in the dryer. Then it’s his underwear, which puzzles him more because underwear doesn’t typically disappear like socks do. He figures something must have gotten mixed up in the laundry room, shrugs, and buys more underwear. And socks.

Keith starts to wonder if he’s going a bit crazy when little things start disappearing, too. Things like post-it notes, pens, even the elastic hair ties he uses when his hair gets too long and he can’t keep it from falling in his face. The kicker is when he realizes Snow White’s pillow is gone.

How in the world did he lose a pillow? Especially one that he hasn’t touched since she took it over as hers?

He eyes her suspiciously when she shows up that afternoon, selects a different pillow as if she doesn’t even notice her favorite isn’t there anymore, and snuggles in. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to your pillow, would you?” he asks her. 

She responds by pushing her face into his palm. “Mrrp.” 

“You realize this makes me even more suspicious, right?”

She blinks lazily at him and he sighs, mentally chastising himself for interrogating a cat. 

\-----

Hiro goes on vacation for a week after his dad’s serious work project is finished. Keith will never admit it, but the weight room is lonely without Hiro’s presence. He’s grumpier than normal, and it doesn’t help that Snow White is conspicuously absent as well. She still shows up, but only twice during the whole week. He feels like he’s been abandoned.

Which is really pathetic, he fully admits. The fact that his best friends are a three-pound ball of fluff and a ten-year-old with an aptitude for snark that rivals Keith’s at the same age does not speak highly of his character. Or maybe it speaks very highly, he’s not sure. Either way, he’s lonelier than he’s been in a long time.

He doesn't say anything about it when Hiro gets back, just nods to him when he comes into the gym and drops his backpack by the weight rack.

“You ready to get back to work, slacker?” he asks instead. 

Hiro makes a face at him. “Don't lie, you know you missed me.”

“Maybe.” Keith smiles, knowing it will tell Hiro the truth. Hiro smiles back and starts stacking weights on the bar. 

\-----

Keith's almost forgotten his missing belongings when he walks into the gym one evening after work and sees Hiro tacking up a poster. 

“What's that?” he asks, mostly ignoring it as he wraps his hands. The punching bag is kind of sad and limp, but it's something. He hasn't beaten the crap out of anyone in a while and his shoulders are getting twitchy. 

“My dad and I found a bunch of stuff under his bed when we got home from vacation,” Hiro tells him. Keith glances at the poster and the puzzle pieces slot into place just as he continues, “Our stupid cat is apparently stealing from one of our neighbors.”

The poster shows several rows of men’s underwear; multiple pairs of socks; a small collection of post-it notes, pens, and hair ties; and the clinching item. A soft, plushy, red and black pillow covered in white car hair. The picture is accompanied by an apology for their apparent cat burglar, and a phone number at which to reach a Takashi Shirogane to discuss the return of the owner's hostaged belongings. 

Keith's lips twitch. “Is your cat small, white with gray smudges, and a complete princess?”

Hiro looks from Keith to the poster. “I'm guessing this is all yours?”

Laughing, Keith nods. “She's been visiting my apartment for a couple months. I suspected she may be my thief, but she never cracked under heavy questioning.”

Hiro rolls his eyes. “You think you're funny, but you're not. My  _ dad _ would have laughed at that.”

“Then your dad has good taste. Come on, let's do our workout and then I'll call your dad about my stuff.”

“Why? I can just take you to my apartment and you can pick it up right away.”

Keith's voice is doubtful when he asks, “Your dad will be okay with me randomly showing up at your apartment?”

“Dude, I've been telling him about you for a month. He'll be happy he finally gets to meet you.” Hiro rolls his eyes again, like Keith's the dumbest person alive. Funny how a ten-year-old is the only one who can make him feel that way. 

Then again, Hiro has been talking to his dad about Keith. Clearly he's doing  _ something  _ right. 

\-----

“Are you sure your dad isn't planning on murdering me for talking to his ten-year-old so much, without another adult present?” Keith asks later as they're heading to Hiro’s apartment. He notes that it's on the floor below his own. 

“Nah. I told him before you were just trying to keep me from braining myself with the weights, and you haven't tried any bad touching. He'll be cool with you.”

Keith winces. “You  _ do, _ generally, know better than to talk to most adults you don't know, right?”

“God, Keith. It's almost like you're a cop or something.” He rolls his eyes yet again; Keith idly wonders if he's ever hurt himself doing so. Or if anyone has ever hurt him for it instead. “And yes, duh. I'm not an idiot.”

He stops at a door about a third of the way down the hall, and Keith starts to figure out how Snow White picked his apartment. It appears that his new friends live directly below him; she probably just climbed the fire escape. 

Hiro tests the doorknob and it twists easily in his hand, so he pushes it open, calling out, “I'm home, Dad!” as he does. 

“Good timing, dinner’s almost ready!”

Keith's stomach jumps a little at the deep, rich voice, but it's nothing compared to the way it somersaults and backflips when Takashi Shirogane wanders from the kitchen into the living room. The man is sinfully gorgeous. Even with the look of surprise that crosses his face, immediately followed by a flash of extreme interest, which he quickly covers with a blank expression. 

Keith bites back a smirk. “I'm Keith Kogane. Your cat, apparently, is very ungrateful for my hospitality.”

The Adonis in front of him honest-to-God blushes, and Keith wonders if there are any family members who can take Hiro on another vacation so his dad is completely available for a weekend full of every last thing Keith wants to do to him.

“I'm so sorry, we had no idea she was stealing anything.” He gestures for Keith to come in. “I take it you saw the posters?”

“Yeah, when I was putting up the one in the weight room,” Hiro chimes in. “This is my friend Keith from the gym.” 

Takashi smiles at him. “I wish it was under circumstances where I didn't have to apologize for my thieving cat, but it's nice to meet you after all this time. You've made quite an impression on Hiroto."

“Da-ad!” Hiro groans, and Takashi ruffles his hair fondly, which he ducks away from. “Stop embarrassing me and just go get Keith's stuff.”

“Follow me,” he says, and Keith gladly falls into step with him. He wonders if this is Takashi’s way of getting Keith into his room, considering he easily could have brought the stolen items out to the living room. If it is, Keith is completely on board. “I knew Zero was getting out of the apartment, but she always comes back and I've never seen her with anything she wasn't supposed to have. I have no idea how long she's been stealing from you.”

“About a month,” Keith informs him, bemused. “And Zero? Really?”

Takashi rolls his eyes, and Keith suddenly understands where Hiro picked up the habit. “Hiro named her, we got her after he saw Hercules for the first time. You know, ‘Zero to Hero’? He thought it was hilarious when he was eight.”

“Eight-year-old humor,” Keith commiserates, even though he doesn't fully understand what that actually means.

Snorting, Takashi leads him over to a chair beside the bed which holds, presumably, his things. Keith is much more interested in the king-size mattress than the cardboard box, though. “It gets better. My nickname through all of college and flight school was Shiro. When my ex and I adopted Hiro, I decided it was time to grow up and use my given name so we didn't have to deal with the teasing about the rhyming names."

_ You certainly are eager to let me know all about yourself,  _ Keith muses inwardly, fighting a satisfied grin.  _ I already know you've adopted and, more importantly, you're single.  _ “You made a serious mistake telling me that. I'm never going to be able to call you anything but Shiro now.”

Shiro glances at him. “Is there going to be a lot of opportunity for that?” His voice is hopeful. 

_ There will be if I have anything to say about it. “ _ I'll leave that up to you.” Shiro colors again, and Keith has a feeling that opportunities to say Shiro's name will be plentiful. “I'm assuming all of that is mine?” he asks, pointing at the box.

Shiro nods. “At least, I think it's all yours. You'll have to check.” Keith bends slightly, just enough to be able to dig through the box and make sure there's nothing there that isn't his. He takes the opportunity to steal a peek from under his bangs and admire the strong, thick thighs now squarely in his field of vision. 

“Have you lived in the building long?” Shiro inquires politely as Keith stands up straight, satisfied that everything belongs to him. 

“About three months,” he answers, hoisting the box into his arms. He doesn't miss how Shiro's gaze darts down to admire the way Keith's biceps flex when he lifts it, despite the fact that the box weighs all of two pounds. The flexing might be intentional. “Zero and Hiro were the first and only members of the welcoming committee.”

Shiro gives him a smile, and Keith clutches at the edges of the box to keep from dropping it. He might be bashful in some ways, but it's clear that the man in from of him knows what a lethal weapon he has on his face, and is not afraid to use it. “Then you should stay for dinner,” he offers, voice dropping into a murmur. “I'd hate to think of you all alone, now that my kid and my cat are safely at home.”

_ Smooth _ , Keith compliments him mentally. “I don't know, what if I don't like what you're having?” he teases. 

Shiro lifts one eyebrow, challenging him, and his voice holds a hint of seductive promise when he says, “Trust me, you'll like it.” 

_ I have no doubt.  _

_ \----- _

Dinner goes amazingly well. Keith finds that Shiro is intelligent and entertaining company, and he has to hold back smiles whenever Shiro brags about Hiro, only for Hiro to turn red and whine at his dad to stop talking. 

He also learns about Shiro's arm, which he of course noticed but would never have mentioned without prompting. 

“It was an accident,” he explains, which, clearly. “My jet crashed and the arm was pinched nearly in half. It damaged most of the nerves and left the flesh necrotic, so they amputated. The accident permanently grounded me, but fortunately I was reassigned to the aeronautics engineering team.” He doesn't sound bitter about the change in his fate, and Keith admires him for it. 

“You know this isn't great dinner conversation, right?” Hiro asks pointedly, shoveling another massive forkful of the cheesy lasagna into his mouth and chomping on it, mouth half-open. Shiro gives him a disapproving look, then turns a dismayed one Keith's way. 

“Horrible table manners aside, my son is right. I apologize for the distasteful topic.”

Keith waves it away. “I've seen far worse. It takes a lot to turn my stomach.”

“That’s right, Hiro mentioned you’re a cop.”

“A Vice detective, actually.” His mouth twists. He doesn’t get all the gruesome stuff the way Homicide does, but he’s seen more than his fair share of violence. “You haven’t seen gross until you’ve seen someone blow themselves up in a meth lab. Body parts everywhere.”

“Keith.” Shiro nods at Hiro, who grins.

“I’ve already heard this story, Dad.”

Shiro levels one of those disapproving stares at Keith; he doesn’t want to admit that it stings. “I was convincing him to say no to drugs.”

A soft snort escapes Shiro’s lips, and Keith’s gaze is involuntarily drawn to them. Shiro obviously notices. “I’ll forgive you this once, but let’s try not to go overboard with the R-rated scene descriptions in front of my ten-year-old son, please.”

He barely bites back a comment about other R-rated things, but that he’d rather be describing them to Shiro. Shiro’s gaze grows heated, and Hiro seems to pick up on it. 

“Can I be done with dinner? I want to play video games with Micah.”

“Sure,” Shiro agrees distantly, eyes locked on Keith. “Turn the game off by eight-thirty, so you have time to get ready for bed.”

Hiro makes a noise of disgust as he passes behind Shiro, muttering, “He was my friend first, you can’t have him,” and Keith doesn’t bother to fight back his sly smile. 

“Is he right?” Keith asks after the sound of Hiro’s door slamming shut echoes down the hallway.

“About what?”

“That you can’t have me?”

Shiro inhales, eyes widening, and Keith wonders if he’s taken it a step too far, if anything beyond friendly flirting is too much for Shiro. He has no idea how long it’s been since he and the ex split, or how bad it was. Maybe Shiro isn’t ready for anything new? Not to mention he has a kid to think about, and Keith is definitely not used to worrying about things being anything more than casual. Shiro can’t do casual, not with a kid. And Keith wouldn’t want to hurt Hiro, ever.

“He can just try to stop me.”

_ Oh _ .  _ Okay then.  _

\-----

They don't do anything, not with Hiro just down the hall, but awareness and a pleasurable tension simmer between them. Zero wanders in and jumps on the couch, curling up between Keith and Shiro, pushing her head into Keith's thigh. His fingers drop to trail languidly through her silky soft fur, and he finds that he's pleasantly relaxed. Shiro's soft gray eyes have him half buzzing with electricity, and half ready to snuggle up and drift off to sleep. 

“I appreciate everything you've done for Hiro the past month,” Shiro tells him, voice low and warm, curling around Keith like a blanket. “He can't stop talking about how great you are.”

The words please him inordinately. “He's a great kid. I like spending time with him. I think it helps keep both of us from being lonely.”

Shiro's mouth twists with regret. “I know it's been hard on him since my ex left. He was only five, and I think he feels like he has to compensate for Neil's absence. Or like he's the reason I've been single for the past five years.”

“Anyone who would reject you because you have a kid is an idiot,” Keith tells him bluntly. “He's fantastic, and so are you.”

Shiro's eyes lift as he smiles. “I like to think so.” His fingers delve into Zero’s fur and across Keith's, and Keith stops pretending there isn't something happening. He slides his fingers between Shiro's, gratified when Shiro's grip tightens. “What about you? Do you have a story?”

“Doesn't everyone?” Keith asks rhetorically. He’s silent for a moment, then decides to give him a stripped-down version of the truth. “Mine is pretty simple. I had a boyfriend all through the academy, even through my first couple years on patrol. Then I got promoted and the hours started getting longer, the danger started escalating, and I was approached to go undercover with a drug cartel. Grant couldn't deal, and he left. That was two years ago. I haven't had any interest in looking for anyone since.”

“What about now?” Shiro's words are soft, barely audible. 

“I still don't have any interest in looking.” Shiro's expression stills, falls a little, but he nods. Keith takes pity on him. “But I'm not going to turn it away if it finds me instead.”

Shiro's smile is breathtaking. 

\-----

When Hiro comes out of his room to get ready for bed, Keith reluctantly pulls himself into an upright position, away from where he’d been drifting into Shiro’s personal space. “I should probably get going,” he says reluctantly, and Shiro frowns.

“Please don’t, not yet. Let me get Hiro settled into bed and I’ll walk you to the door, at least.”

“It’s five feet away,” Keith says, unable to contain his grin. “I think I can get there on my own.”

“You know what I mean,” Shiro retorts playfully, and Keith sinks into the back of the couch, one arm propped up along the back, as he watches Shiro rise and head back into the hallway.

He hears Shiro and Hiro murmuring under the background sounds of water running and Zero finishing up her dinner, marveling at how differently than anticipated his evening’s gone. Instead of eating a microwave dinner on his couch while watching some inane TV show, he had a solid, home-cooked meal with the man of his dreams and the only kid he’s ever genuinely liked.

It’s a little scary, a little exhilarating, and Keith’s ready to hold his breath as he falls over the edge.

“Are you going to say goodnight or anything?” Hiro yells down the hall. “Remember who your friends are!”

Snorting, Keith lifts himself up from the couch and strolls toward Hiro’s room. “Didn’t know if you’d want me barging in on your bedtime routine.”

Hiro wrinkles his nose. “I’m ten, dude. I brush my teeth, get into my pajamas, and go to bed. There’s no routine.”

Shiro ruffles his hair again and Hiro mock-glares at him. “Don’t let this one fool you. He makes me tuck him in every night.”

“DAD!” he hisses, swatting at Shiro’s hand.

“Seems like I’ve heard that exact exasperated tone a few times tonight,” Shiro chuckles, leaning in and dropping a kiss to Hiro’s forehead. “Come on, get into bed.”

Hiro twists a little, looking at Keith questioningly. Keith steps forward and opens his arms, and Hiro flies into them, hugging him tightly. “I’m really glad you came over tonight,” Hiro tells him, glancing at Shiro, and Keith feels a little squeeze around his heart. Unless he misses his guess, Hiro approves of their obvious attraction to each other.

“I’m glad, too,” he replies, hesitating before following Shiro’s lead and kissing him on the forehead. Hiro beams up at him, then jumps into his own bed.

Shiro moves to tug the blankets around him, sparing only a quick look at Keith. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Keith takes the hint and leaves, wandering around the living room to study the photographs of Shiro and Hiro with friends and family. He doesn’t see anything that appears to include Shiro’s ex, and his heart aches a little at the implication that Hiro’s other “father” completely abandoned them. 

“Thanks,” Shiro says quietly, stepping up behind Keith where he’s looking at a photo of Hiro and a woman who resembles Shiro, except older. “I appreciate you saying goodnight to Hiro. It meant a lot to him.”

“Anytime,” Keith answers, and means it. He gestures to the photo. “Is that your mom?”

“Yeah.” He points out a few other family members, including his father, aunt, and several of Hiro’s cousins. “We have a big extended family, fortunately.”

“And the ex?” Keith holds his breath, wondering if he’s pushing.

The light in Shiro’s eyes dim. “We haven’t seen him since Hiro was seven. He tried to stay in Hiro’s life for a little while, but he remarried, and his new wife had children of her own. He terminated his parental rights two years ago.”

Anger crawls through his veins. “Hiro deserves better. At least he has you.”

“He does. I wonder if I’m enough sometimes, though.” Shaking his head, Shiro forces a smile to his face. “And that’s far too heavy for me to be laying it on you the first time you even meet me."

“Is it really?” Keith asks, surprised. “I’d forgotten. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

The forced smile softens, becomes genuine. “I feel the same way.”

Shiro’s hand finds Keith’s and squeezes, and they stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, smiles growing into something almost goofy in their happiness. Keith hates to break the moment, but he has to. “I don’t want to, but I really do need to get going. I have a presentation at eight in the morning and I need to be there by seven to set up.”

Shiro follows him as he makes his way to the front door, slipping behind him into the hallway. “I’d like to see you again,” Shiro tells him, suddenly looking nervous, and Keith wants to roll his eyes.  _ Apparently I really am a perfect fit for this family.  _

Leaning up, he brushes his lips against Shiro’s so that his intentions are completely unmistakable. “I can’t wait. Dinner tomorrow?”

Shiro grins, kissing him again with intent and wrapping his arm around Keith’s waist. Keith willingly goes into the embrace, hands finding purchase on Shiro’s broad shoulders, hips tilted forward into his. He doesn’t rush it, enjoys the way they quietly explore each other, memorizing the way Shiro tastes. When Shiro breaks contact, Keith’s head is buzzing in a way he hasn’t felt in years. “You’re in charge of wine and dessert.”

“I can handle that,” Keith murmurs, taking one step back, then another, unable to turn away from Shiro’s warm, fond gaze. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Keith.” His voice is husky, and Keith knows he’s going to hear it in his dreams.

“Good night, Shiro.” He finally manages to turn, making his way to the stairwell at the end of the hallway, barely feeling the ground beneath his feet, a silly, happy smile curving his lips.

It isn’t until he’s unlocking his own front door that Keith realizes not only did he forget his box of stuff, he never told Shiro his joke about interrogating the cat. He really wants to know if it would make Shiro laugh, like Hiro said it would.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll have more opportunities to tell Shiro. Hopefully countless opportunities.

He wonders what the protocol is for getting “thank you” gifts for a cat. Because he has a feeling he owes Zero a debt that can never be repaid.

**Author's Note:**

> Me to myself: "People don't fall in love with each other half an hour after they meet, you know this, right?"
> 
> Myself to me: "THEY ARE SOULMATES AND THEIR HEARTS KNOW EACH OTHER, OKAY? GOD, JUST LET ME LIVE!"
> 
>  
> 
> Please come say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://cobrilee.tumblr.com/) and squeal with me about how much Keith and Shiro love each other!


End file.
